Love always finds its way

It's a minute past midnight, and I am sitting halfway through my journalling to structure my happiness. I am deeply moved by everything that I experienced today. It felt like a full circle, a smile meeting the other end as if I was placed in a big ring that radiates power toward me. This day, felt like closure to my NNG workshop. All the learnings, attributes, and moments layered themselves in the newest form of experiences that I hadn't even dreamt of.

I walked into a world of writers. Readers. Minds that resonate with mine; all around me, standing, laughing, listening, sitting on a lawn, clicking photographs, a few sipping beers, a few sipping conversations.

It felt like a world where souls recognized each other, the mutual feeling and love for reading. Love for books. Love for handwritten letters. Love for words.

There was a clear class disparity, there were poignant writers who'd reached the highest feats, there were amateur students with big dreams like me, and there were celebrated literature enthusiasts from around the world, but in this little world of the BLRLITFEST, it felt like they all left their egos in a brown chest cabinet or something.

Unlike the architects who were carrying humongous egos like capes at the IIA conference, writers here left you with a piece of them. They are all like me. Storytellers. Lovers. People who leave you with words, people who leave you with smiles. I got a beautiful hug from Kubbra Sait, I think she actually kissed my forehead as she hugged me because of how much I adore and admire her. And I felt soo loved. And it was fucking beautiful because, as I kept talking about how I have watched every single story of hers that has been published on Kommune; she said THANK YOU VAJJJ. And I went, wait. I never told you my friends call me that. And she went, very recently I described myself as someone who will address you with one short sweet name, that is likely what your best friends call you and you'll go wait a minute...are ..we ..that close?!

And that's true. She did make me feel that way.

Her energy was so contagious. Like a celebration spreading across a ballroom. That smile. That fun energy. That funny personality. Omg.

And as always, I made sure I ask a question. 

I spoke about my personality.

I was brave enough to tell her how so many people call me boring and serious because I take life too seriously 

And honestly I got a little vulnerable asking, I spoke about where my anxiety is rooted, and the question sort of evolved into something about self-love; or at least that's how she interpreted it

That was not my question actually.

But she spoke a lot. And left me with a line that said, if you love you. You won't hurt you.

I'm like wait a minute, I do love myself 

My dumbfucking ass phrased the question wrong or it just got delivered differently.

So I walked behind her, through the lawns, into the ballroom where the authors were signing.

High ceiling with a golden glow washed across the walls, mirrors at heart's distance from your lung, Italian marble shining with golden lines on the floor.

Tables placed in a row, all white-like melting clouds 

She sat on a chair clad in white 

And the line of fans began to move like the alphabet into a poem 

People getting their books signed, photographs clicked 

After a few minutes of waiting on the side, I was like HI. Listen. I phrased the question wrong, I don't know what I asked that time. And she is like anxiety, argh. Childd, breathe. And I just teared up slightly dude. And then I asked her something I've been fighting mentally 

How to be fun?

How to be funny?

And this time, consciously, I phrased and voiced it the way I had mentally.

I was like how do you carry this FUN energy?

And she went, it just is.

And you'll discover it 

Once you discover it, it's all yours 

But she didn't leave it there.

She looked me in the eye and went but listen 

YOU YOURSELF HAVE SUCH A GREAT ENERGY. I love it. Own it. Own it and walk now. I nodded, like a child that understood what a mother instructed. She repeated it thrice. Own it and go out, live.

I walked out teared up.

I was so deeply moved by her aura, her words, and just her ability to read through me.

A stranger to her. Not a stranger to me. I know many parts of her that she's chosen to share over the years through her stories, and there she was; knowing nothing about me yet talking to me like a friend. I got to be around her for less than an hour but it felt like she was THERE FOR ME. And it felt fucking empowering. 

Kubbra Sait was there for me.

I spoke to her before her talk, through the talk, after her talk, and every time we interacted; it felt like she read me a little more. I used to say I read people like a story worth being told, but she taught me what it means to read them so deeply, in the very few minutes of life gifts you encounter.

Farhan Akhtar.

I have fallen in love with Farhan Akhtar in the past because of his authenticity in character and that husky voice reading out Javed Akhtar's poetry, the discipline in Bhaag Milkha Bhaag, his sense of humor which is so goofy, and of course his character from ZNMD, Imraan Quereshi.

I was sitting in the third row between two middle-aged women who looked like luxury. The air was aloof.

He entered. 

I couldn't contain my excitement obviously, I fucking love Farhan Akhtar. 

I mean I've watched ZNMD soo many times 

The panel discussion was based on his mother's book but it had a wide spectrum apart from that

They spoke.

Then, the floor was open for questions 

I got myself the mic. I was standingg, seeking. The volunteer noticed me. Handed the mic.

I was like 

Good morning everyone (wkwlfgggdkk)

First of all,

This feels SOO unreal.

Then I looked at Farhan and went,

I wouldn't introduce myself as a fan, I've befriended you mentally. You're my friend in my mind.

And Farhan Akhtar went 

So, you are my Pal-vati then xD 

As a reference to Bagwati from ZNMD 

Dude. I lost it. The whole crowd was thundering with hoots and claps and so much excitement when he said that. I was blushing. He was smiling, looking at me. And he had that smile that reflected the feeling of ~a line just landed my audience into beautiful laughter, he had this awareness that it made me so happy and overwhelmed and it was so beautiful how he chose to say it. And the thunder of claps, laughter and rooting settled into an envelope, allowing me to ask the question.

And the biggest best quality I admire is my honesty. 

I always put myself out there and I think it is a beautiful quality to own. I spoke about how I feel my poetry has lost its magic and asked how he deals with the flow of creativity and writer's block.

He said don't deal with it, go do something else. 

Just forget that you've to write, indulge in anything you like, travel, and do something and something will arise from within 

Or go look for conflict because poetry is mostly rooted in some conflict or pain 

And I look up to people who can write when they are happy and when they can express happiness through words, that is somethingg.

And the fact that I am doing exactly that right now is such a high degree of validation for me.

Being Farhan Akhtar's Pal xD And having a little bit of something he admires.

And by the end of all this, the two aloof women who looked like luxury had allowed me into their world with smiles and a pleasant ~you asked well.

I watched my confidence melt the aloofness that had been around initially. I watched them treat me differently for simply how I was. For I had the courage to speak a certain way, to a great actor in front of a fully packed house.

The air went from bitchy brick face to ~lovely earrings. People really gauge and respond to confidence. It attracts.

There was one strip of time through the day when I sat around the kid's arena; a writer I follow on Instagram interacting with children in a very lively manner.

I witnessed something beautiful.

A boy, about six or seven years old; just allowed himself to recline on that lawn right in between the session, unbothered, and was staringg into the blue sky beyond, humming in his own world. 

And to me, that was absolute freedom. A child lying on green grass without a worry. I wanted to be that child, and today I strongly felt; we can be that child, we only need to choose to. Like Shobha De quoted "Everything in this world is a choice. You should never HAVE to do anything, you must choose to." and that struck.

Ambai 

She was really old. She could not speak, her voice quivered creating pauses mid-sentence, with every sentence, like seashells cracking under the feet on a beach.

She simply spoke.

She was everything yet simple 

She narrated this story.

A man once asked a great British writer, how do stories come to you? How do you write?

And he replied very metaphorically saying 

Every morning I wake up, stand in front of a window, and open it. Stories fly to me like birds.

And she went, now that's a beautiful analogy and metaphor but, you also need to have a window to open it.

And you also need a supportive, loving family that allows you to stand in front of the window and receive those stories.

And at that moment, I realized; I have both.

I do have a window, I've written poems that have moved people, that have made them smile and cry even. I have words in me. 

And I do have a family that supports.

And there was this unspoken, unworded feeling in me that said; you'll be that great writer answering someone else's question someday. You'll be the one allowing stories to fly to you like birds.

Speaking of which, it takes me back to Kubbra.

She was a stunning encounter I needed and those mental images of time spent with her are recurring like a song that settles in your heart.

When she sat there, on the other side of the table; signing those books with a smile so endearing; my mind, heart, and soul aligned. I knew it. That is the dream.

To be there on the other side. 

Signing soul-stirring bestsellers and having honest, wholehearted conversations with humans like me.

That is the dream. And love always finds its way.

~Vajj©